Rayne Auster - Tapestry for Love,
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Published by
Dreamspinner Press
4760 Preston Road
Suite 244-149
Frisco, TX 75034
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the
author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or
dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Tapestry for Love
Copyright © 2010 by Rayne Auster
Cover Art by Rayne Auster
Cover Design by Mara McKennen
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by
any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information
storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the Publisher, except where
permitted by law. To request permission and all other inquiries, contact Dreamspinner Press,
4760 Preston Road, Suite 244-149, Frisco, TX 75034
ISBN: 978-1-61581-522-7
Printed in the United States of America
First Edition
July, 2010
eBook edition available
eBook ISBN: 978-1-61581-523-4
For my “weird” brother, who recently developed an interest in this
genre because of a special friend; my unique adopted sisters, who love
me no matter how “crazy” I get; my editors, who patiently taught me
where my weaknesses lie; and all my readers, who encouraged me to
never stop dreaming. May you all cling to those “impossible” dreams.
Tapestry for Love
Spinner of
Dreams
S
ILENCE
permeated the air as he worked, weighing heavy in the soft
candlelight that illuminated the room Aislinn was seated in. He
carefully ran a single finger over the page before him, barely noticing
the rough texture of the parchment as he read through the list of names
and the dreams associated with each one, trying to determine to whom
he could best allocate the care of each mortal’s dream. He’d done this
many times before, and his mind was focused solely on the task at
hand.
Clack clack clack.
The intrusive sound started out soft but soon increased in volume,
drawing Aislinn’s attention to the fact that someone had intruded upon
his domain. Listening carefully to the sound, he quickly identified its
source and sighed in defeat. He distinctly recognized that particular
clack of heels upon the floor and the pattern with which their owner
walked.
“Good evening, Brigid,” he greeted softly, just as a slim woman
rounded the corner and came into sight. The long locks of bright red
hair framing a pixie face were offset by the fire in her violet eyes, the
sheer force of her presence alone enough to let Aislinn know he was in
trouble.
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